In a Moment's Time
by ThatClutzsarahh
Summary: Olivia Dunham, you were the love of my life. Season 4 compliant


**season 4 compliant. spoilers for when Peter returns. That's about it I guess. This was fun to write. It's rather beautiful I think. I enjoyed it. I hope you do too.**

**I own only the typos.**

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><p>"You were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen."<p>

He stands there, heart and soul in front of her with hands in cuffs. She's seated across from him in a steel room with her steel eyes staring molten holes into him. He can feel them piercing through, like the perfectly seamless pierce of a needle into his vein. He's just come back, from...he doesn't even know, and she doesn't remember him. So he's here to plead his case, in this tiny silver room, trying to get her to see she's never once been this cold.

"You had this glow in your face when I met you," he says, "After John."

He watches her eyes grow hard, cold and stiff and her back straighten. She's viciously closed off and he hates it. He hates he knows it's because of his absence. He watches her watching him dangerously. But he is no threat. He could never hurt her. How could he live with himself with her thinking that?

"You came to find me," he continues softly, "In the farthest corner of the world. And I'll admit, it wasn't conventional and it wasn't rational, but you did because you loved John."

She flinches again, and he notices because he _always_ notices things in her because he is _drawn_ to her without a doubt. He fiddles with his thumbs on his handcuffs (arm bracelets is more like it) and stares at her hard.

"And we became partners," he adds, "And after a long time we fell in love. But things got complicated and life got messy but you-you were there and wonderful. Olivia-"

Olivia steps away from him. This is too much for her to handle. Her hands fly to her hips and she stands with her back to him, one hand in her hair the other on her hips as she absorbs this information. He knows how strange it sounds to her, he knows how foreign it sounds to her ears. It's so obvious to him that she has not had love, that no one has ever protected her. And the thought makes him sad and he wants to reach out and touch her harden shell. But he can't.

"Olivia-"

"Don't," she turns, with pleading eyes, "It's Agent Dunham."

"No," Peter says firmly, "It's not. Not to me, not to Walter, not to Astrid, not to anyone. You are Olivia to us. You are our family-"

"Stop!" she shouts angrily, "I don't know you. You appeared, out of the thin blue light in my apartment. I've never met you- I've never _seen_ you!"

"You know me!" Peter shouts, "You know me like the back of your hand! You used to trick me, fool me, you could read my thoughts without trying, and we-we used to be perfection on a case. You were so hardcore and you were so soft all at the same time-"

"No," Olivia answers, "No, you don't know me."

He squares off with her, shoulders straight, spine in line. His eyes are in line with hers, steely green meeting mystic blues and holding them. He's trying everything to read them, to see inside her soul but all he's met with is darkness, a cold and lonely darkness that makes no sense to him. He wants to reach inside her and desperately warm the frozen soul she harbors with his touch, scorching it until it comes out her eyes in brilliant displays of oranges and reds. He wants to touch her soul and leave his mark all over again, because she is nearly soulless, empty and void. And he hurts when he sees that in her because he knows she is not that void and soulless woman.

"You were so vibrant," he murmurs softly to her, "You were this beautiful color of lights and range of emotions. You were so driven. You'd never stop no matter what. And sometimes you were stupid about it, you'd gladly give up your life for someone you didn't know. And you gave up your world for me- someone you didn't know. You became special, different. And then you fell in love and it was like seeing the sunrise for the first time."

Peter watches her face as he speaks, watching as her eyes melt, mold into her deep inner thoughts. He thought for a second that perhaps, that maybe she remembers him and she's coming to remember everything so he tries again, gently, calmly. He loves her so much it hurts, a deep ache in his bones, a hole in his heart where she filled up, a space that she inhabited. And he realizes it just wasn't a space, it was his whole being, every fibers. She was there, underneath every plate in his blood, in every cell of his body, the nucleus to each and every one of his atoms. She was the painting and the paint, the painter and the canvas. To him she was nothing less than everything, forever and always. And he had to win her back. Because he's seen her leave him, he's seen her die, he just doesn't want to see her not want him. He would settle for nothing less.

"You told me once," he says carefully, "How you loved the sunrise. How you thought it was full of promise. It was you-

"Favorite time of day," she finishes for him. Her eyes are no longer steel, they are soft, misty. "I've never told anyone that before. How," she whispers venomously, "How do you know that."

He's careful with his moments, with his body language. He has her now, he is almost sure of it.

"You told me," he says, "You loved me."

Olivia turns away from him again and he hears her sniffle. Instantly he freezes. He's heard that sound once more, when he broke her heart the first time. It's a sound he hates, a sound he fears, a sound that makes _him_ feel weak, venerable. He wants nothing more than to wipe those tears away, to warm her up. Her shell is breaking and he is causing the pieces to shatter away. He doubts she will ever be the same again.

"Olivia," he says softly, "I know things. A many great things. Horrific things. Things that _I_ have answers for. Because they have already happened. We have already solved them. I know the answers you are looking for-"

"Why," she spins and he steps back. Her face has gone from stony cold to open and full of emotion and it's so strong and so powerful he can't stand up straight. With one simple glance she changes his life...easily, obviously. He is drawn to her, irrevocably and unexplainably.

"Why did you come back? Why are you here?"

Peter takes a moment to register her words. He frowns deeply, eyes misty and suddenly very wet. His takes a breath in through his nose and notices the sharpness of it, how choked off it sounded to him. He does not want to cry in front of her. He can't cry in front of her.

This is her moment. This for her. He's not here for himself. Her stance is defeated, confused and saddening and he understands it. He understand _her_. If only she could see it. But he sees there is something there, something left in her. Somewhere buried inside her is a light he found and held, preciously, in his palms. Like a delicate sugar flower, melting in the heat and hardening in the cold, she was in his palm, trying to find her comfort level. And it's not him to push either way. She needs the balance she once had, the security she once felt. He's there for that.

"I'm here for you," He says, "I'm a part of you, you can't forget that."

He steps forward, close enough to whisper in her ear.

"I'm not here to hurt you. I'm not a threat. I'm here to help you Olivia, I'm here to fix you."

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><p><em>Fin. What do you think? Was this good? Tell me what you felt, please :) Cookies for those who do ;D<em>


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